The vinyl resurgence shows no sign of slowing, so here's a great budget turntable for your newly thrifted LPs.

April 16, 2010

In the 70's when cheap pocket-sized transistor radios were king, manufacturers were competing on style. For example, Panasonic had a bunch of colorful models, so Radio Shack wanted their own version for their Realistic house brand. They rolled out the Flavoradio line - pocket transistor AM radios in six colors. The colors were named after fruit flavors, (much like a line of Macintosh computers I seem to recall from the last century). There was Pistachio, Plum, Lemon, Orange and Blueberry. Mine is a 2nd generation strawberry... though "mauveberry" is probably more accurate.

Flipping through the virtual pages at radioshackcatalogs.com, I found the Flavoradio in catalogs from the 70's through to the early 80's. It was a popular thrifty gift, and a good experimental starting point for electronics fans. Here are the details of a young man's project to turn the Flavoradio into an inexpensive shortwave receiver back in the 70's. The catalog shows the Flavoradio's price creeping up from the $6.95 in the 1975 ad here, to $7.88 five years later. Oil crisis? Reaganomics?

The Flavoradio was available exclusively at Radio Shack from 1972 to 1986, an astonishing 15 years - the longest running production radio ever built. Radio Shack retooled the case twice more, offering models up until 2001. At that late date, the Flavoradio was the last AM-only radio available anywhere.

This long run puts it up there with such perennial classics as Minimus speakers and the Executive Decision Maker. By the mid 80's, the Walkman revolution was turned up to full volume, so Radio Shack listeners wanted better fidelity, FM, and of course those miraculous cassettes. By the time they finally let go of their beloved Flavoradios, Radio Shack was stocking their own versions of the Walkman too.

Radio Shack used to have a healthy selection of house brand products. Fans enthused that these were somehow made better than regular brands, or were easier to fix. Others had less flattering opinions. One unique aspect of the store used to be that many of their signature models remained available for far longer than products at other retail outlets. Perhaps Radio Shack didn't feel the same commercial pressure to continue renewing products?

I usually think of Radio Shack products mostly being of serious dark plastic with fakey woodgrain trim. Perhaps some brushed aluminum... so the multi-colored radios were a surprising addition to the line. I never got one back then, and I must admit that here's a question that has plagued me since then. Did anyone besides me else think that the Flavoradio was going to have the scent of the fruit it was named after?

I think that I just figured out our next Retro Thing exclusive product...

April 13, 2010

If you collect enough junk for long enough, it all just starts to come together. Years ago I found the Sony PS-FL1 drawer turntable. It was one my first posts for Retro Thing. It's a fairly conventional spinner of platters, with the cool powered drawer making it extra special. The PS-FL1 is connected to the rest of my somewhat more modern stereo, but it's the only component without a remote. There were a few remote control turntables here and there over the years, but for the most part you had to get all interactive with your platters.

There is a solution. On the back of the PS-FL1 is a jack for adding remote control - sort of. You may remember that in the provincial days before agnostic universal remotes, some manufacturers forced you to buy their components exclusively in order to remotely control any of them. None of the components had their own remotes, but by connecting special umbilical lines between one manufacturer's components, you could control them all wirelessly. This meant that you had to chose your main amplifier carefully, as it would likely be the nerve center that allowed remote control of all the other components.

Sony found an even more galling route (as they often do). Not only do you have to buy all Sony brand gear, but you also have to buy the special RM-44 remote control component. Connect all of your Sony goodies to the RM-44 through difficult-to-source cables, and then you can use the included remote to run the whole party. Not only does this force you to invest heavily in Sony components, but you also have to buy what amounts to an expensive dongle to unlock features that should have been there in the first place.

I'd be more infuriated if I hadn't paid only $5 for the little box a few weeks ago (see what I mean about all this stuff eventually coming together?). The difficulty will be ad-libbing the cables to connect the RM-44 to the turntable. What will I get for all that trouble? What red carpet features will suddenly be at my command? I'll be able to start and stop the turntable, and lift the tonearm. A miracle! Though it doesn't sound like a lot, that actually is kind of cool. If I had the appropriate Sony tape deck, it would synchronize with the start and stop of the turntable for making car tapes of LP's... woo!

I do sort of want to do it, but am not looking forward to duplicating that special cable. I also probably don't need another large-ish remote on the coffee table that only really does three things. There may not even be room for the half-component-width remote receiver, but I'm still tempted to stage this reunion between the turntable and remote that haven't met in 25 years. Actually it would be pretty awesome (or should I say "rad"?) to find the other pieces and put together an example of a rather nice 80's integrated audio system. Then I'll hang a Nagel print over it all, and catch the latest Miami Vice. Ooh! This one has Phil Collins in it!

April 08, 2010

Back in the 80's, before the superstores really took over, a lot of electronics came from local dealerships. A few bought advertising time on local TV stations, but I've never seen a spot like this. Is this commercial for real? Looks like it is. This is Joe Pierre who takes an informal approach in this local TV commercial for his electronics business in Tulsa, Oklahoma. He invites viewers to come down and check out the latest cassette Walkman - and check out that back wall with even more 80's gear.

Pierre's business promises that they service what they sell. He purrs in the direction of the Walkman, promising that they will "fix the little turkey if it breaks down". You know what? I believe him. In my electronics shopping career, the best service has come from small, locally owned electronics businesses. I've gotten some of my best deals that way too.

Big box stores are great if you know exactly what you want, and don't have any customer service expectations (either before or after the sale). But if I'm buying something that really matters, something that I really want to last, going local still feels right to me. Obviously caveat emptor still applies (don't get me started on the guy who's been "repairing" one of my turntables for the last 7 years), but if you shop around you can still find those dealers who specialize in their product, have actual useful advice, and know the value of your business.

March 10, 2010

We've talked about the PA-10 before, but only recently have we had a chance to lay our ears on one at Retro Thing labs. It's made by Trends Audio, the same folks who also offer an audiophile version of the famous T-amp amplifier. The PA-10 is the same compact size (about the size of a couple of cassettes stacked up), has the same simple controls & few inputs... but the difference is apparent right away. There's a blue-glowing tube sticking out of the top (and you know how we feel about blue glowing things).

You connect your audio source to one of two inputs on the back (with a small switch to select between the two inputs), and then plug in your headphones to the 1/8” jack on the front. The big friendly volume knob on the front and blue power led completes the ensemble and off you go.

My tests were very straightforward. No oscilloscopes or test signals; just my ears, some favorite music, and a couple very good sets of headphones. I chose to play tunes from a tabletop CD player with an 1/8” headphone jack as well as a good portable CD player. That way I could compare the sound coming right out of the CD player versus what it sound like after going through the PA-10. I also played some MP3's directly from my laptop. Some were seriously compressed, others only mildly so.

After much back and forth, my overall conclusion is a simple one. Music played through the PA-10 sounds much better. In audio gear reviews, people will talk about how true the sound is to what the the artist originally recorded (which is why some audio nuts I know actually dislike adjusting the sound via an equalizer). Whatever the tube might be doing to color the sound, the music had a much improved stereo sound stage, and was far more vivid overall.

Whenever I upgrade audio equipment (especially headphones), I'm looking for a dramatic difference to what I had before. The PA-10 brought a dramatic difference to music I've heard hundreds of times. It was exciting to pull music off of the shelf to hear what it would sound like with the PA-10. I've bought equipment that was much more expensive (and bulky!) than the PA-10 that offered a much less dramatic improvement.

The PA-10 lists for $225, which is pretty approachable for “audiophile” gear. It's also a good way to enter the world of tubes. Swapping around different tubes to get a favorite sound is almost a sport among analog audio fans. It ships with a Chinese 6N11 tube, but you can substitute a Russian 6H23n or American GE 12AU7 for an extra $40.

The simplicity of the PA-10's board layout encourages DIY type hackery, and there are online forums discussing all sorts of ideas for tweaking its performance, which is a big part of the fun. There's also a simple jumper to skip the volume knob if you want the purest performance from this little amp.

One thing that would make me happier would be a phono pre-amp in the unit. I have so many records that I want to digitize to my computer, and it would be a great advantage to have a compact and great sounding pre-amp running the show. A pocket sized tube amp with a great build is a unique product that can make that old music sound a little more lively again.

March 03, 2010

This might sound a bit odd, but when I was about 8 years old my school snack shack started selling old army surplus ammo boxes. These days, that would probably trigger an immediate lock-down. But back in the cold war I simply plunked down most of my meager allowance for a green metal box wrapped in torn brown paper. It was battered and worn, yet perfect for lugging around my most important childhood possessions.

Fast-forward three decades and Thomas Spaans has created the A-BOX, a a high quality portable iPod amplifier integrated into a fifties design M2A1 ammo box.

He says, "The iPod/mp3 player can be connected on the outside of the A-BOX as well
as the inside so you can listen to your tunes while running around with
the A-BOX for example or just protecting your iPod from bullets and
stuff.

the A-BOX comes in 2 models: the light version with 2 x
25 watts rms amplifier and woven glass fiber speakers (carbon color)
this model will cost 350 euros. and the heavy version sporting 2 x 70
watts amplifiers and woven kevlar speakers (the yellow material used in
bullet proof vests) this version will be selling for 475 euros.

both
versions have indication lights in the bass tube which will indicate
the status of the battery with white, orange and red colors. the heavy
version however has an extra feat, indication lights behind the speakers
which will warn against distortion when driven too loud."

January 13, 2010

Martin sent us a link to Stereophile's 1983 review of Sony's CDP-101 player. It's a fun read filled with the usual audiophile nonsense about "almost unbelievable freedom from strain" and "pervasive dryness." In the end, reviewer J. Gordon Holt was suitably impressed by the pricey digital box, even though it had no knobs to twiddle knowledgeably.

"Our long-awaited laser-audio disc player (usually called the CD, for
"Compact Disc") finally arrived, along with a real bonanza of software:
two discs—a Polygram classical sampler of material from Decca, Deutsche
Grammophon and Philips, and a Japanese CBS recording of Bruckner's 4th
Symphony, with Kubelik."

Holt expressed concern over the $1000 price tag and the lack of "audiophile-quality fare" in the pipeline, "At this price, John Q Public isn't exactly going to embrace the CD with
open wallet. Its market (besides a few wealthy individuals who'll buy it
for the status value or out of admiration for the high technology it
represents), will be serious audiophiles, and its potential success in
that quirky marketplace is going to depend on how good it sounds and how
much software (program material) is available for it. In fact, the
software situation may be the biggest deterrent to its immediate
acceptance by a public already primed by the slick magazines to expect
perfection from digital audio."

The early eighties staff of Stereophile would never have believed that Walmart would eventually sell a rainbow of tacky Sony CD Boom boxes for only $28. Nor would they have been comfortable with the notion that the CD player would be obsolete within a quarter century, replaced by millions of cordless telephones made by Apple.

It's hard to dodge accusations of being a codger when you write a site called Retro Thing. Honestly, the only time I actually do feel like an old man is when I have to repeatedly ask my neighbors to keep the noise down. A lot of students live in my building, so I'm the "some old guy" they hiss about behind their doors when I complain about the racket. I like music and parties and happiness, but prime time around here is a ludicrous 4 a.m., and is dotted with the "subwoofer shootout" video game, band practice, and the mysterious nocturnal shifting of lots of furniture.

At any time other than 4 in the morning (and admittedly even then sometimes) I'm actually fond of strange noises and laughter. I've even been known to produce both, despite my advanced age and decrepitude. The Okeh (a record label known for its "race" records among other things) "Laughing Record" is a famous novelty recording from all the way back in 1923. The record consists of a man playing a cornet (I think), a woman braying at him, and the man sputtering and laughing as he tries to get back to his very serious music.

Bizarre? Yes. Funny? Yes. I'm not sure at what point in the party you put this on, but it's pretty great. So popular was this record, that is was re-released in several countries for decades. Since there are no spoken words in the record, it translates well to the humor of other lands. We've all had noisy neighbors playing wonky brass instruments, right?

25 years after its release, the recording became fodder for the last cartoon directed by the indefatigable animation pioneer Tex Avery. In "Sh-h-h-h-h-h", the Laughing Record is the soundtrack of some noisy neighbors, while a long-suffering nervous type does everything he can to avoid exploding with rage. I know exactly how he feels nearly every night. So it looks like the cartoon and the Laughing Record have given me the answer to my noisy neighbor problem. Anyone know how to attach my stereo speakers to the ceiling?

January 08, 2010

Like its
predecessor, it runs on batteries and features a 3.5mm headphone jack. Unlike its predecessor, it incorporates a USB port for ripping vinyl to computer. The $150
unit is slated for a summer release.

December 31, 2009

CassetteMaster is a frequent YouTube poster, sharing his many analog tape machine finds. He's adept at getting them working, and equally adept at finding some rather obscure machinery. This video shows off the Dormiphone, an early endless loop tape machine (similar to the later 8 track format). There's a clock on the face of the Dormiphone with lots of switches. This was to set the timings of automated playback throughout the day, much like an appliance timer that turns lights on and off when you go on vacation.

He says the machine is likely from the 50's, and was probably intended to loop short phrases for the subject to memorize while they sleep. In a fascinating footbote, there is also some evidence that machines like these were used for ESP and mental telepathy research. In the video he plays back an original tape that he found with the machine. The delivery of the person testing out the recorder so many years ago is quite stilted, amazed at the capabilities of this new dcevice. Though to me it sounds a bit like one of many ghosts captured by this machine.

December 06, 2009

Bill Berry writes, "Koss headphones were the very first headphones I'd ever seen as a kid. And I remember listening to Grand Funk Railroad's 'We're An American Band' on my dad's Marantz through those headphones. While these are not the same model my dad had, I'm sure his were not as close to the top of the line, they come as close in look and feel as I'm going to find. Especially new."

Theses particular 'stereophones' are very workmanlike in construction. They're made of a particularly difficult to describe greenish khaki color textured plastic. The plastic is a kind of dense poly-whatever. These are clearly made to be Functional and Durable. In Caps.

The sound is quality, but not astonishing. Not as bass-y, as I would like, moreso with no EQ on iPhone (3G). These won't knock your socks off, but they'll probably outlive your socks. These are the kind of headphones you brandish at friends and intone, 'In Soviet Union, headphones listen to you!'

These are probably not suitable for what I purchased them for, for travel 'phones on the plane and in the airport. Enclosed headphones, 'cans', can shut out ambient noise without the bells and whistles of noise cancellation. But these phones are bulky and heavy. Maybe not something you'd like to lug around an airport."

The original Pro-4AA stereophones stayed on the market for over 15 years. In fact their discontinuation in the late 1980s caused such an uproar that they were reintroduced in 1988. They've been a foundation of the Koss line ever since. The Pro-4AAs carry a reasonable list price of $99.99, and you can find them for less without much effort (FYI, Amazon has them for slightly less, with free shipping).

December 03, 2009

The Pioneer CT-W606DR is a double auto-reverse cassette deck. It would be right at home in the early 1990s, except that it sports a set of decidedly modern 20-bit analog-to-digital and digital-to-analog converters.

Still, its other capabilities are right out of my 1989 Christmas wish list: Dolby B/C noise reduction, Dolby HX-Pro, high speed dubbing (with digital noise reduction), CD-synchro recording and high-speed song search (which plays the first couple of seconds of each track before zipping on to the next).

The big question, of course, is why anyone would part with $229 for a cassette deck in the 21st century. Off the top of my head, I can come up with three potential markets:

1.Folks who love to record radio programs and are allergic to computers.

2. Former teenagers with a massive collection of mix tapes hidden in their parents' basements. They secretly long to listen to their old bootlegs of The Smiths and The Cure just a few more times before the irreplaceable hand-decorated tapes disintegrate.

3. Loony half-deaf audiophiles who claim that cassettes are "much more musical and open, with a precise soundstage that allows each instrument to breathe with effervescent succulence."

Poor Pioneer. With a potential market like this, they'll be lucky to sell a thousand units next year. Still, I doubt it costs much to keep a heap of CT-W606DRs in the corner of a dusty old warehouse. After all, perhaps the day will come when cassettes are hip again.

November 30, 2009

I love old boom boxes, especially when they've got something unusual about them. Usually, boom boxes differentiate themselves with different features, but occasionally it's some manner of personalized "customization". I dream of one day finding a boom box that's been airbrushed like the ones you see in breakdancing movies of the 80's, but mostly customization comes from the prior owner using a Sharpie to scrawl a name on the device itself. When I do find one like that, I usually christen the boom box with that name as a reminder of its prior life. Maybe I'll tell you about good ol' "Jasker" one of these days.

There's not much unusual about the Emerson CTR 965. It's somewhat typical of 1980's boom boxes. It gest loud, dubs tapes, sports an entirely useless equalizer graph painted on, has unmistakably 80's square speakers (Surprise! It's just the grille cloth that's square.) The interest lies in the extensive customization job someone has done on this CTR 965. Nearly every button has a little tag taped on where the prior owner neatly typed out each function - this in the days before spellcheck, of course...

I guess today's whipper-snappers with their YouTubes and their Borats will laugh at such a fuddy-duddy move, but peeling back one of the tags I can see that the original labeling is quite difficult to make out. The text is all quite tiny, and the icons for each button are chrome on chrome rendering them visible only from a narrow angle. I especially don't want to laugh because I suddenly notice that my girlfriend had done the same thing to our bookshelf stereo. Again the fancy chrome detailing obscures the embossed function of each button (complicated by the device's control scheme being maddeningly non-intuitive).

While this could be a testimony to my own ocular decrepitude, I think it's more of a cry out to manufacturers. Do authentic human beings test products before they ship to consumers? When I have complained to a manufacturer, they brush me off saying that I'll get used to it. I'm the type of person who evalulates purchases very carefully, and I want to be in love the moment I open the box. It's similar to how I fell in love with this unique boom box & it's hand-crafted additions at the first moment I saw it. In my mind's eye, As for the original owner, I've got an image of an older guy buying this boom box despite it's being intended for a younger crowd. Maybe the guy really wanted to blast "Just a Gigolo", okay?

The Emerson CTR 965 is actually worth a couple bucks on the collector's market, but I think I'll leave the old boy as-is since it has so much personality. One day I'll be grateful that I can still hear music on the radio, let alone play my Louis Prima tapes at ear-splitting levels.

November 12, 2009

The Logitec AM/FM USB radio stick is proof that vintage technology isn't always the best solution for the 21st century. The receiver plugs into your notebook so you can listen to (and record) old fashioned terrestrial radio.

It's kind of like enjoying your mp3 collection or favorite streaming music service, except with much lower fidelity and frequent interruptions by loud people trying to sell you things.

The FM/AM stick can receive most strong FM stations, but you'll need to plug in the 3m external antenna to get a good AM signal. It's got a magnet on the back, so you can string it above your seat and fasten it to conveniently exposed metal while riding the bus. There's also an optional coax hookup should you wish to run an extension cable from your TV. Kinda defeats the whole idea of having a portable computer, doesn't it?

This ridiculous replacement for a $10 portable radio can be yours for an unspecified price, starting in early December 2009.

November 11, 2009

Pete Verrando wrote with news of his latest creation: "I just finished this, and thought it looked nice, so I thought I would show you. I do a lot of vintage restorations and mash-ups such as this. Some of them are on the main website under 'Radio Room.'

Inside the vintage cabinet is a 10 watt integrated solid-state amplifier, and a high quality Blaupunkt 5 1/4" coaxial loudspeaker with a massive ceramic magnet. The cabinet is air-sealed and fiberglass blanketed to create an infinite baffle enclosure. The inset side panel offers bass/treble controls, left and right RCA line inputs (sealed), and two 1/4" jack inputs, hot enough for a microphone or electric guitar. Also included is an iPod dock/charger that plugs in directly to the side panel.

The cabinet is a vintage Philco Dynamic Tester, from 1946. Known then as a Signal Tracer, which is just a small amplifier/speaker combination with an external probe for fixing audio equipment."